


Ride It Out

by thecarlysutra



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Anal Sex, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Having painful sex because you're greedy and impatient and not willing to prepare properly, M/M, Painful Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: Maverick and Ice had been messing around for weeks, but they hadn't hadsexsex yet.For @johnhughesdidnotdirectmylife and their dialogue prompt,bite the pillow and ride it out, sweetheart.
Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79





	Ride It Out

  
Maverick groaned, long and loud, and he felt Ice chuckle around his cock. Maverick was on his feet, back against the locker room wall, and Ice was on his knees between Maverick's legs, sucking him off with the same drive and diligence he did everything else. Maverick felt the vibrations from Ice laughing thrum through his cock, and that was enough; he groaned again and bucked against Ice's tonsils as he came. He closed his eyes, trying to hold onto the sensation. He felt Ice tuck him back in his underwear, and then stand up. He nuzzled against Maverick's neck, and Maverick, eyes still closed, brought a hand up to hold him close, palm on the back of his neck, fingers sliding up through the short cropped hair at his nape. Shit, that was good. He wanted to sink back into it, ride the waves of pleasure into forever. 

"Did you like that, Maverick?" Ice murmured against Maverick's ear. 

"Not bad, Kazansky," Maverick said. 

He heard Ice chuckle again. "You have a terrible poker face." 

Maverick huffed. Ice laughed again, and kissed the joint of his jaw. 

"Why don't you come over tonight?" he asked. "No class tomorrow; you can stay the night. We can sleep in." 

Maverick opened his eyes, turned his face to look at Ice's. He was looking at him, too, expression relaxed, pale eyes soft. 

"You want me to come to your house and stay over?" 

"I just said that, didn't I?" 

Maverick frowned. He saw Ice's brow pinched in concern, and he wanted to ease his mind, but he couldn't really explain how he was feeling. No one had ever asked him to stay the night before. He and Ice had been fooling around for a couple weeks now, starting less than a week after Ice came back to TOPGUN, but Maverick wasn't even sure if Ice liked him. 

Ice opened his mouth to speak. He was a little flushed, and Maverick knew he was embarrassed, so he said quickly, "Sure, Ice. Love to." 

Ice smiled, and kissed his mouth—once, softly, with a closed mouth. "Great. See you at seven? I'll cook for you." 

Ice wanted to cook for him, too? Maverick swallowed his uncertainty and forced a smile. "See you there." 

***

Ice made filets of dark meat with crispy skin and a side of caramelized plums. Maverick liked it a lot, but couldn't figure out what the meat was; it turned out to be duck. 

"How did you learn this shit, man?" 

"Cooking?" Ice asked. "Mostly from chemistry classes. I know how to follow a recipe, that's all." 

After dinner, Maverick leaned against the stove watching as Ice cleaned up. He liked the way he moved, and the way he wore his jeans. He wondered what staying the night meant. They had been messing around for weeks, but they hadn't had _sex_ sex. Maverick had been with a few guys, almost all one nighters. Ice was different; he knew that already. And he'd be lying if he hadn't fantasized about fucking Ice, and Ice fucking him. 

"You want a drink?" Ice asked, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. "Or … I don't know how you're feeling, but to be honest, I'd really like to take you straight to bed." 

"Yes," Maverick said immediately. "Yeah, let's do that." 

***

They undressed each other in the doorway to Ice's bedroom, which was impeccably clean and furnished with simple mahogany pieces from the 1940s. They took their time, moving slowly, not speaking. It was so quiet that all they could hear was the other's breaths, getting shorter the longer they went on. 

When the last piece of clothing was on the ground, Ice took Maverick in his arms and bowed his head to kiss him. Maverick closed his eyes and drank in the sensation. Kissing Ice was always amazing—he was good at it, for one, and those lips…!—but this time everything was more intense. He could feel Ice's warm body against his, from thighs to shoulders. They'd never been fully naked with one another like this, and Maverick liked it. He wanted to explore Ice's body, and he did a little, running both palms down Ice's chest, to his hips, to his buttocks. Ice moaned quietly mid-kiss, and then started moving them toward the bed. When they'd reached it, Ice lifted Maverick up and onto the mattress, and then climbed overtop him. Maverick sighed, and ran his hands down Ice's shoulders, down his arms. He wanted to touch every inch of him. First with his hands, then with kisses. There would be time for that. He was certain of that now. 

Ice kissed his face. "Doing okay, Mav?" 

"Doing great." 

"We haven't talked about our preferences, but I'd like to be inside you. Tell me if you don't want that—" 

"I do want it," Maverick said without hesitation. "Now? Can we do it now?" 

Ice kissed his mouth—slowly, deeply, well. "Yeah, we can. I just gotta get you ready first, okay?" 

Maverick nodded. Ice leaned over to the bedside table; he pulled out a condom and a bottle of lubricant, then shut the drawer. He leaned over Maverick, kissing his neck and chest before coming back eye to eye with him. 

"Ready?" he asked. 

Maverick nodded. 

"Have you done this before?" 

"Yeah, a few times." 

Ice kissed him. "Good. In that case, I'll be gentle, but not _too_ gentle. Sound good?" 

"Sounds great. But hurry." 

Ice poured some lube into his fingers. He wiggled them together a little to warm up the gel, then braced himself on one arm on the mattress next to Maverick's head, then gently parted his legs and swirled his greased fingers around Maverick's hole. Maverick panted, and pushed up on Ice's fingers. He bore down, then relaxed, and Ice's forefinger slipped inside him easily. Ice fucked him with his finger slowly, loosening him up. Maverick whined, and squirmed on Ice's fingers. 

"Come on," he panted. "I want you inside me. Now." 

Ice frowned. "You're not open enough. Hold on." 

"I can take it!" Maverick said. "Come on, Ice, come on." 

Ice was quiet a moment, then nodded. He removed his finger and slipped on the condom. He studied Maverick's face. "You're sure?" 

"Fuck yes, man. Come on, I'm starving for you." 

Ice blushed a little, and he smiled, showing his teeth. "I got you, baby." 

He positioned himself between Maverick's legs. Maverick could feel Ice's cock pressing against his hole, and he clenched and then relaxed again, helping Ice inside. It was just an inch, and then Ice shifted over him, slowly sinking the rest of his cock into Maverick, and Maverick lost his breath. It felt amazing to finally have Ice inside him, but Ice was right: He wasn't open enough. The stretch burned, and Maverick panted. Ice stayed still for a long moment, letting him get used to the size of him, but when he started moving, Maverick was still burning. He gritted his teeth, and Ice's brow creased. He stopped moving. 

"I'm hurting you," he said. He pulled out. "Let me stretch you out more." 

"I can't wait," Maverick said. "Please don't stop." 

Ice frowned for a minute. Then he nodded. "Turn over." 

Maverick was confused, but he wanted to go on, so he did as Ice requested without any argument. Ice shifted above him, then pushed inside him again. He balanced himself on his arms, his body blanketing Maverick. 

"Tell me if you want to stop. _Promise me_ , Maverick." 

"Yeah." 

"Say the words." 

"Fuck, Ice, okay. I promise." 

"Good," Ice said, and started to move inside him, long, sure strokes. 

Maverick panted. The stretch was giving way to pleasure, little by little. But it still hurt too much to really enjoy it. 

Ice grabbed the pillow cushioning the headboard in front of Maverick, and pulled it back so Maverick's face was in it. 

"Take this." 

Maverick grabbed onto the pillow. He was confused, but didn't ask about it; he was too busy gritting his teeth. Ice thrust in and Maverick couldn't stifle a moan; Ice slowed his pace a little, and said, "Bite the pillow and ride it out, sweetheart." 

Maverick flushed. Ice took up the tempo, and Maverick felt a bit foolish, but he did what he'd been told, hugging the pillow and then biting down on it. He breathed. Slowly, the pleasure eclipsed the pain, and he squirmed and moaned and tried to stand it. Ice felt so good inside him, and the pleasure was incredible, tingling through his body like electricity, and Maverick bit down on the pillow again, urging himself not to get greedy, to deal with his impatience and make it last. Ice was making him feel so good, and if he could just be patient a little longer, he'd have a prize winning orgasm, too. 

Ice moved inside him, strokes strong and sure. Maverick whined, the sound muffled in the pillow, and Ice kissed his shoulder and said, "Come for me, baby." 

Then he pushed against Maverick's prostate, and held it. Maverick writhed against the bed, and then he came, shouting and shaking. Ice rode him for another few seconds, then came himself, groaning long and low, then pulling out and laying atop Maverick for a long moment. Maverick's flesh was becoming sound again, and he was still as he was able, feeling Ice's pounding heart and gulped breaths against his back. 

***

Ice cleaned them up, then shut the lube back in its drawer and pulled out some pajamas for them both. They were big on Maverick, and he kicked himself for not bringing an overnight bag. Ice had asked him to stay over. He wanted to wake up next to him in the morning. 

Maverick realized, thinking about it now, that he was giddy at the prospect. Ice was unlike anyone he'd ever known. He was talented and smart and beautiful, and he wanted Maverick the same way Maverick wanted him. It was kind of incredible. 

They settled down in the bed, nestled together. Ice was on his side next to Maverick on his back, and he cuddled against him, his head on Maverick's shoulder, his fingers gently tracing the outlines of the muscles in Maverick's chest and abdomen. Maverick ran his fingers through Ice's hair slowly, rhythmically, and Ice made a soft pleased noise hardly bigger than a sigh, and Maverick smiled. 

Something came to him. "Hey, Ice?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you cook breakfast, too?" 

"Yeah, sure, Mav, I'll cook you anything you want." 

"French toast?" 

"Sure, baby. French toast." 

Maverick's eyelids were getting heavy. He snuggled into the pillows, snuggled against Ice, and closed his eyes, still running his fingers through Ice's hair. "I like sleeping over, Ice." 

"Me too. You should do it more often." 

Maverick turned, pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You can count on it, Ice. You can count on it."  



End file.
